But I have to keep a cool head. I have to find a way out of this – I have to live. And that means that if it comes down to it, I have to be prepared to trade him for my freedom. Nobody else is here for me. I have to take care of myself.
I really hope I don’t have to hand him over, though.
There’s another option, a part of me whispers.With someone like Hunter, you could stop running, start living.
Sparks skitter along my skin, all the way from the back of my neck to my fingertips, as I imagine that future. But I’ve learned what happens when I put my fate in someone else’s hands.
I let out a slow breath and lean back a fraction. That’s all it takes – he eases back too and he shoots me a quick, easy grin that tells me everything’s fine. And I shove down my disappointment, biting the inside of my cheek to try to ground myself. He might be many things – a capitalist billionaire who grinds thepoor beneath his boots, for example – but he doesn’t pressure a girl, so I guess he’s got that going for him.
‘So,’ he says quietly. ‘I guess at some point we have to stop hiding under this desk.’
‘Sooner than later,’ I agree, amazed at how even my voice sounds. ‘We should keep going, while two of them are out of commission.’
But I don’t get any further than that, because that’s when the PA system crackles to life.
14.
HUNTER
5 HOURS, 25 MINUTES REMAINING
GREETINGS,SAYS A VOICEfrom near the ceiling. I startle, banging my head against the underside of the desk, and hiss a curse as I reach up to check if I’m bleeding. Beside me, Cleo’s gone perfectly still.I assume you have access to a headset, the voice continues.Please set it to channel four. I’d like to have a conversation.
I’m not sure if my head’s spinning from the whack I just gave it, or the trance Cleo had me in a moment ago.
She looks just as shaken, but after a moment she blinks, and then twists so she can snake an arm up onto the desk, grab the chief engineer’s headset, and pull it down. I hold my hand out for it, and she scowls and puts it on over her own ear.
This would be a lot easier if either of us was a follower.
I lean in to try to hear the conversation, but don’t want to touch my face against hers after the moment we just had – thenshe makes an annoyed sound and yanks me closer, so I let myself press my cheek to hers.
She taps the headband to bring up a display that only she can see, then swipes her finger through the air, presumably choosing channel 4. A voice issues from the headset immediately, broadcasting on a loop, I guess.
… Let us know when you’re receiving. Repeat, once you’re ready to talk, let us know—
‘What do you want?’ Cleo demands. She sounds different – she’s made her voice lower, rougher, older than it is. It’s a smart move. I wouldn’t have thought of it.
We want to find a resolution that works for all of us, says the voice. It’s low, authoritative.
‘The Pirate,’ Cleo whispers, her mic off. That would be my guess, too – this voice sounds like it belongs to the leader we saw on the bridge. The guy with the eye patch.
How did you get left behind?he asks, his tone light, curious.
‘I was in bed with your mom,’ Cleo drawls. ‘I didn’t hear the evac alarm over the sound of her screaming.’
My gaze snaps up, but there’s a snort of static over the channel, and I realize he’s laughing.Okay, he says slowly.This I can work with. Let me start by apologizing for the fact that we shot at you.
‘It sure didn’t feel like the start of a beautiful friendship,’ Cleo agrees, her casual tone at odds with the tension in her expression.
Fair. We didn’t actually come here to kill anyone. That’s why we were so careful to evacuate the station before we began.
‘So whydidyou come here?’ Cleo asks without missing a beat. Her fingers are drumming on her knee, and I trace the path of her tattoo up her forearm, flowers and vines curling around each other.
My mind flicks back to the files I caught them trawling through when I was in the greenhouse, watching them opening the UN Central Registers one by one. We can’t ask about those specifically – no value in telling them what we know.
It doesn’t matter why we’re here, the Pirate says.What matters is that you are too. Here’s my offer: come join us, and we’ll take you with us when we’re done.
Now it’s Cleo’s turn to laugh. ‘And then you’ll set us free, trusting in our goodwill and our silence?’
